


The First Horcrux

by realismandromance



Series: Evanna Potter [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Drama, Female Friendship, Female Harry, Female-Centric, Gen, Hogwarts Second Year, No Slash, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, POV Female Character, POV Third Person Limited, Slytherin Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:29:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1900677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realismandromance/pseuds/realismandromance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a hectic first year, Evanna Potter is ready to settle down for her second year at Hogwarts ... if her overprotective aunt will let her attend, that is. But she hasn't counted on a misguided house-elf, another dramatic Hallowe'en, a thoroughly useless Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and a creepy diary. [ON AN INDEFINITE HIATUS]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Problem of Post

It began when Evanna Potter's aunt and uncle announced they were going on a holiday during the summer break.

'After all, it's only fair,' Uncle Vernon joked to Dudley and Evanna, one arm around his wife. 'You two run her ragged. Especially after that hectic school year ...'

'Where are you going?' asked Evanna quickly, wanting to avoid the subject of her and Dudley's first year at Hogwarts. To put it mildly, it hadn't been quiet.

'Australia,' said Uncle Vernon – then, catching sight of Evanna and Dudley's looks, amended quickly, 'All right, not quite so far away as that. We thought we'd go to the Isle of Man, actually.'

'But what about  _us_?' demanded Dudley, finding his voice at last. 'Where are  _we_  going to stay?'

Aunt Petunia cleared her throat.

'We considered asking Mrs Figg or Aunt Marge –'

But the rest of her sentence was drowned in Evanna and Dudley's protests.

'Mum, no way! Aunt Marge? She takes better care of her dogs than us! And she's always pushing Cat around. And Mrs Figg's obsessed with cats, they'd scare Iris ...'

'No, not Aunt Marge,' Evanna protested, stricken. 'Please not Aunt Marge, I'd so much rather Mrs Figg,  _anybody_  other than her.'

'Actually, they'd better stay with a magic family,' Uncle Vernon put in. 'I'd rather not explain why Dudley has a pet owl – and there might be other tricky questions, too.'

Aunt Petunia let out a soft groan, but turned to Evanna and Dudley. 'What do you two suggest, then?'

'You could always let us stay here by ourselves,' Dudley said hopefully.

'What? Of course not! Don't be ridiculous, Dudley, you're both only eleven ...'

'Twelve,' muttered Dudley indistinctly, offended. 'I'm twelve.'

'And I'm nearly,' said Evanna. She and Dudley had only been born a month apart, after all, but hadn't met until they were both one, due to unusual circumstances.

'That's still not old enough,' Uncle Vernon said firmly. 'All right, maybe not Mrs Figg or Aunt Marge, but we have to find  _somebody_  to take care of you two.'

'Ron already asked me to stay over at his house twice,' Dudley spoke up. 'And he did come over for Christmas.'

'Er,' said Evanna. 'I could ring Hermione and ask; I'm sure her parents wouldn't mind ...'

'That sounds good then,' said Uncle Vernon.

'No,' said Aunt Petunia, in such a firm tone that they all, even Uncle Vernon, looked at her strangely. 'No, if you're going anywhere then I want the two of you together.'

'But Petunia, perhaps it would be more practical –'

'Mum, I don't see why –'

'Aunt Petunia, there's nothing the matter, really –'

'No,' repeated Aunt Petunia inexorably. And that, Evanna told Hermione on the telephone later, was that. Aunt Petunia wrote to Mr and Mrs Weasley, who sent Iris back with a conclusive reply:

> _Dear Mrs Dursley,_
> 
> _I have talked over your suggestion with my husband, Arthur, and we have agreed that we would be delighted to have Dudley and Evanna stay over the summer while you and your husband are on holiday. If you wish, I will take them to Diagon Alley with my own children to get their things for Hogwarts this year. My youngest son Ron spoke highly of his stay at your house last Christmas, and I must thank you again for letting him come._
> 
> _According to your letter, you will be leaving for your trip on the first of August, so would it be agreeable to you for us to come and pick up Dudley and Evanna on the thirty-first of July? You also mentioned that you will be returning on the twenty-ninth, so I would suggest that we drop them back at your place on the thirtieth. Please owl me if you have you have any problems with this arrangement._
> 
> _Best wishes, and looking forwards to seeing you on the thirty-first,_
> 
> _Molly Weasley_

Evanna felt a bit put out when she found out what date the Weasleys were due to come. She didn't say anything, though; it was the day that fitted best, after all. Instead she called Hermione to tell her the news.

'... and Aunt Petunia wants Dudley and me to be  _together_ , even though it's really stupid,' she complained, exasperated. 'I mean, it's not as if we don't see enough of each other at Hogwarts and at home anyway. But she's really protective.'

'Tracey wrote to me,' said Hermione. 'She wants to know why you haven't been answering any of her letters.'

'What? It's she who hasn't been answering mine – she and Daphne too. I wrote to them both in June, but they never replied, so I didn't send any more.'

There was a pause.

'There's something wrong,' Hermione said finally. 'Has Dudley been getting letters?'

Evanna twisted the telephone cord around her fingers absent-mindedly, thinking. 'Yeah, he has.' It occurred to her that if Hermione hadn't telephoned when Evanna first sent her a letter with Iris, then she and Hermione might not be in contact now either. 'Listen,  _your_ post is fine, right? So can you write to Tracey and Daphne and tell them I'll be staying at the Weasleys' place in Devon from my birthday up until the thirtieth of August? Speaking of which, d'you want to come over for my birthday? Not the whole day, 'cause Dud and I'll be leaving later, but maybe for lunch or something? Uncle Vernon said he'll drop you off home if your parents don't mind.'

* * *

Hermione was there as invited on the morning of Evanna's birthday, along with presents, felicitations and news from their mutual friends.

'Tracey and Daphne sent me your presents once I explained everything,' Hermione told Evanna, handing her a stack of gifts as soon as they climbed the stairs and reached the landing in front of Evanna's room. 'They were really nice about it, though none of us know why – there's a  _house-elf_  on your bed!'

'What?' Evanna yelped, setting the forgotten presents on her bedside table and staring at the offending creature. Hermione was right, of course. 'Who are you and what are you doing in my room?' she asked the house-elf, too startled to remember her to be polite.

'I is Dobby, miss. Dobby has a message for the great Lily Potter because Dobby has heard about the great things Lily Potter has done and Dobby – Dobby has to warn Lily Potter!' the house-elf squeaked, dancing from side to side on Evanna's bed.

'Don't call me Lily. It's Evanna. And what are you talking about? What great things? Why do you have to warn me?'

'Won't you sit down?' Hermione added politely, patting the bed.

Dobby promptly burst into loud, sobbing wails, while Evanna and Hermione stared at each other helplessly. Finally Hermione sat down herself and gingerly put her arm around Dobby.

'It's all right, Dobby,' she said soothingly. 'You don't have to sit down if you don't want to. I didn't mean to offend you. What's wrong?'

Dobby cried louder, but this time they could make out words: ' _Offend_  Dobby! It is not that – only Dobby has never been allowed to sit down with wizards – like an  _equal_  –'

'Evanna!' called Uncle Vernon up the stairs. 'Is everything under control up there?'

'There's nothing!' Evanna yelled back, covering Dobby's mouth with her hands to muffle the noise (she ignored Hermione's indignant protest). 'Everything's fine! Stop crying ... please,' she said to Dobby urgently, removing her hands. 'Look – you said you need to warn me – about  _what_?'

Dobby's tears slowed, as if on cue, and he scrubbed at his eyes and nose with the edge of the lumpy grey pillowcase he was wearing. It was a pathetic sight. At last he spoke, his eyes fixed adoringly on Evanna.

 _'Evanna - Potter – must – not – go – back – to – Hogwarts,'_  he announced importantly, his eyes bigger and rounder than ever.

Evanna felt winded, like she'd been punched hard in the stomach. 'Why not?' she asked, her voice strangely distant. 'It's  _Hogwarts_  ... I belong there ...'

'Evanna Potter must not go back to Hogwarts because – because great and wicked things are going to happen at Hogwarts! Evanna Potter will be in terrible danger!'

'What kind of danger?' Evanna demanded aggressively. 'Tell me, Dobby!'

To both her and Hermione's amazement, Dobby began beating his head against the iron bed head, screaming,  _'Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!'_  His head made horrible clanging noises as it connected.

Evanna lunged across the doona, pried Dobby's fingers off the bars and wrenched him away just as two voices yelled, 'Cat!'

She spun around, holding the panting and again-sobbing Dobby, to see Hermione kneeling on the bed behind her. Dudley was standing near the door, which he had obviously thrown open. He gaped when he saw Dobby.

'What is  _that_?'

'He's not an "what"! He's a house-elf called Dobby whom we found in Cat's room,' said Hermione indignantly.

Dudley let out a low whistle, kicked the door shut and came closer. Evanna, sensing that Dobby was no longer about to beat himself over the head, let go of him cautiously. He stood on the bed, wobbling slightly and knock-kneed. Silent tears were streaming down his face and spotting his ragged pillowcase.

'Tell Dudley what you told us, Dobby,' Hermione said gently, handing Dobby her handkerchief.

'Dobby has come,' Dobby said haltingly (because each word was punctuated with a sniffle), 'to Li— Evanna Potter to tell her that she must not go back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, because great and terrible things are going to happen at Hogwarts this year!'

It annoyed Evanna immensely that Dobby could tell Dudley in one clear sentence what he came for, yet had taken forever to say it the first time to Evanna and Hermione. But she let it go, saying instead, 'Dobby, what kind of danger do you mean? Does this have something to do with Voldemort?'

Dobby clapped his hands to his ears, squealing, 'Speak not the name, Evanna Potter! Speak not the name!'

'Sorry – habit,' Evanna muttered. 'But does it? Have anything to do with Vol— You-Know-Who, I mean?'

Dobby swayed dangerously close to the bed-head again, but Evanna threw out an arm and held him fast. 'All right, we get it – you can't say,' she said hurriedly. 'Is there anything else you can tell us – like –'

'What's that under your pillowcase?' Dudley asked suddenly. Evanna was about to tell him off for his rudeness, but then realised he was right – there was a suspicious extra lump in Dobby's pillowcase. Before he could react, she whipped it out.

It was a messily tied stack of letters, all addressed to either  _Cat Potter_  or  _Evanna Potter_ , and with return addresses such as  _Tracey Davis, 16 Idlewild Drive, Lower Faraday, Bedfordshire_  and  _Daphne Greengrass, 78 Blackthorn Crescent, London_.

The bar dropped into place. Evanna gaped at Dobby.

' _You're_  the one who's been stopping my post!'

Dobby twisted the hem of his pillowcase nervously.

'Dobby thought ... Dobby thought that if Evanna Potter didn't get any post, then Evanna Potter might not think she had any friends, and she might not want to go back to Hogwarts ...'

'Well, it didn't work,' said Dudley unnecessarily.

Dobby still looked nervous. Hermione's eyes flicked from Evanna to Dobby, seemingly torn.

'So you're doing this to save my life?' began Evanna – but a voice from downstairs interrupted.

'Dudley! Evanna! Hermione! Lunch is ready; go and get cleaned up, please!'

Evanna, Dudley and Hermione turned automatically towards the door. Remembering Dobby, Evanna looked down – but found herself clutching thin air. Dobby had disappeared. Cursing under her breath, she put the letters on top of the presents Hermione had given her and followed Dudley and Hermione across the landing to the bathroom, feeling both apprehensive and thoroughly confused.


	2. The Burrow

'Listen, you two,' Evanna told Dudley and Hermione as the three of them washed their hands, 'I don't reckon Aunt Petunia's going to be very happy if she hears that horrible things might possibly happen at Hogwarts again this year. So do you mind not mentioning it to her or Uncle Vernon?'

' 'Course I won't,' Dudley said easily. 'Mum'll have a fit.'

'It's not my secret to tell,' said Hermione loyally, but added musingly, 'Dobby must have a really horrible family if they force him to punish himself like that.'

Lunch was such a happy affair that Evanna immediately forgot all about Dobby and his message. Aunt Petunia had cooked all of Evanna's favourite foods (treacle tart and steak-and-kidney pie, among others), and after food and cake, Evanna remembered that she'd never actually got around to opening the presents Hermione had brought. Out of all of them, Tracey's was her favourite, for it turned out to a huge leather-covered book filled with wizarding photographs of her parents. Inside Tracey's card was a note:

> _Dear Cat,_
> 
> _Happy birthday! I hope you like the present. It was really Hagrid's idea, and he collected most of the photos, but he said I should be the one to give it to you. The rest of the photos are from my Aunt Jillian because her sister – my mum – went to Hogwarts at the same time as your mum and dad._
> 
> _Love, Tracey_

At half-past three Mr and Mrs Granger arrived to pick up Hermione. They had refused Uncle Vernon's offer to give Hermione a lift home because, as it turned out, they had relatives who lived not far from Little Whinging and had decided it would be an excellent opportunity to visit them. After they left, Dudley and Evanna were banished to their rooms to finish packing and do a last-minute check, as Aunt Petunia told them firmly. Evanna was just locking her trunk and sitting on it, relieved, when she heard an earsplitting shriek of tyres and brakes from outside. Leaping off her trunk (which groaned in protest), she looked down out of her bedroom window to see a light blue Ford Anglia backing slowly down Privet Drive towards number four. Two long dark screech marks extended several metres beyond the bonnet of the car.

Her heart leaping from a combination of excitement and nerves, Evanna gave her bedroom one last cursory glance before leaving. Bed made, trunk packed, room passably tidy ... She took a wicker basket containing Seraphine, the black cat she'd bought in Diagon Alley last year, and her trunk and descended the stairs at a gallop.  _Thump_ ity- _thump_ ity- _thump_ ity went the trunk down the stairs. Going so fast she could mentally hear Aunt Petunia telling her to slow down, she burst out of the front door just in time to see a thin man with glasses and balding red hair climb out of the Ford Anglia and mop his forehead with his handkerchief. One by one redheaded children clambered out of the car as well – two identical boys a few years older than Ron and a girl smaller than Evanna, whom she did not recognise, and of course Ron himself, who beamed when he spotted Dudley standing in the driveway next to his trunk and a birdcage containing his brown owl, Iris.

'Good afternoon! Thank heavens we found the place all right,' said the man, his face brightening as he came over. He was wearing clothes that, while obviously Muggle attire, were a little off (white cricket trousers, for instance, paired with a patterned shirt and a lost-looking bowtie). 'I'm not quite used to driving an – er –  _aumotobile_  yet, and Muggles houses around here all seem to look the same ... I asked the children to look out for number four, only I'm afraid to say that we  _were_  going fairly fast, and Ginny  _did_  insist on yelling right in my ear ...' He looked ruefully at the tyre marks on the street, rubbing at one with the heel of his shoe and looking disappointed when they did not disappear. 'Oh, well ... Arthur Weasley, pleased to meet you ...' He shook Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's hands warmly. 'Oh, these are my sons, Fred and George – no, hang on,  _that's_  Fred and  _that's_  George – sorry boys – this is Ron, of course, and that one over there is my daughter Ginny.'

'And this isn't even everybody,' added Fred, grinning from over Ginny's fiery hair.

'Yeah, there's a couple more at home we might have missed,' said George.

'Such as Percy, our dear older brother, but he was much too busy holed up in his room to come along,' said Fred.

'Polishing his prefect badge's more like it,' said George.

'Boys!' admonished Mr Weasley sternly, but Evanna could see he was trying hard not to smile. 'And you two must be Dudley and Evanna.'

They nodded mutely, somewhat overwhelmed.

'How're you going, mate?' Ron said to Dudley. 'Good summer?'

'Pretty dull, actually. You've got to tell me everything that's going on, I've no idea how the Magpies are going.'

'Magpies? You've got to be joking, Dud – the Cannons are easily best team in the league.'

Dudley snorted.

'Come off it, Ron – I may have been out of the loop for a month but it'll take longer than that for the Cannons to get a flag. It's only been what, a hundred years since their last?'

'You may laugh now, but you won't be when they beat the Magpies next week! Last time they came fairly close!' Ron retorted, his ears slightly pink.

'Oh, d'you mean that time when the Magpies won by one hundred and fifty points and it would have been three hundred if the Snitch hadn't flown up the Cannons' Seeker's sleeve and the referee ruled it a Plumpton Pass? I guess it could be called close – for  _them_ , anyway ...'

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were talking to Mr Weasley.

'Thank you so much for letting them stay,' said Aunt Petunia. 'I'm so worried they'll be a bother. And I'm afraid I was very forward about it – I do hope I didn't seem rude.'

'Nonsense,' Mr Weasley said bracingly. 'Ron very much enjoyed his stay here during Christmas. Consider it a returned favour. And I'm sure Dudley and Evanna will have a good time.' He turned the twins, who were busy teasing Ginny about something. 'Fred, George, stop that and help put Dudley and Evanna's trunks in the, er ...' He gestured to the back of the car helplessly, at a loss for what to call it.

'Boot,' Dudley supplied helpfully. Mr Weasley smiled gratefully at him.

'But of course you would both know all about Muggle things?' he asked Dudley and Evanna eagerly, his eyes lighting up with sparks of interest. 'You'll have to tell me all about them – it really is fascinating, how Muggles get on without magic.'

Uncle Vernon coughed. Mr Weasley turned enquiring eyes on him.

'Is there anything else, Mr Dursley?'

'No,' said Uncle Vernon. He clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. Aunt Petunia swept both Dudley and Evanna into a tight hug so that Dudley's elbow was poking painfully into Evanna's ribs. 'Be good, you two – we'll send you a postcard when we get there.'

'Bye,' Evanna said, feeling oddly detached. Fred closed the boot of the car on Dudley and Evanna's trunks. George opened the back door, standing aside to let Dudley and Evanna in when Dudley stopped short, his forehead creased in a frown.

'What's wrong?' asked Ginny, who stuck her head around Ron to see.

'We won't fit,' said Dudley. 'There's five of you ... and two of us ...' He gestured to the car, puzzled. It did seem impossibly small.

Ginny giggled.

'Dudley,' said Ron, rolling his eyes, 'you're forgetting that we're  _wizards_.'

'Oh, said Dudley, not entirely getting it. 'Yeah, of course.'

'It's an Undetectable Extension Charm,' Evanna heard Mr Weasley say quietly in Dudley's ear. 'Makes the car look the same from the outside but roomier inside ... You wouldn't mind not mentioning it to Molly, would you?'

'No, of course not,' Dudley whispered back. They climbed in – Fred and George in the passenger seat and the rest sitting comfortably side-by-side in the back. After two failed attempts, the Ford Anglia roared to life and gained speed. Evanna could see Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia still standing in the driveway of Number Four, Privet Drive, waving until the car turned the corner onto Wisteria Walk and out of sight.

Much to Evanna's surprise, Mr Weasley did not drive the car to the end of Wisteria Walk and onto Magnolia Road, but instead turned halfway down Wisteria Walk into a narrow alleyway.

'Not a word to Molly,' he said again, before pressing a small silver button on the dashboard. Evanna blinked. The car had disappeared – actually  _disappeared_  – for all she knew she was just a lone pair of floating eyeballs in the alley between Wisteria Walk and Magnolia Crescent – at least until Dudley let out a yell of shock.

'Sorry,' said Mr Weasley guiltily. 'Ought to have warned you ...' His voice trailed off as the car slowly rose into the air, careening slightly from side to side. From Dudley's lap, Iris let out an indignant hoot. Higher and higher they went, until the alleyway was a mere line below them – Privet Drive and Little Whinging were like rows of ants, dropping further and further away as they gained altitude. Once they were well above the clouds, there was a popping sound and the car reappeared.

There was a brief pause.

'This is so cool,' breathed Dudley. 'Are you the only people who have a flying car?'

Fred coughed loudly.

'Er, yes, actually,' said Mr Weasley, the tips of whose ears were turning faintly pink. 'You see, there aren't any cars in the wizarding world ... come to think of it, that's not strictly true, since the Ministry of Magic does have a number of them ... the point is, I just – er – took one and put a few simple spells on it. So, what have you been getting up to in your holidays, Dudley, Evanna?'

Evanna got the feeling that he was trying very hard to steer the topic of conversation towards a safer subject. 'It's my birthday today,' she ventured, playing along.

'Really?' Mr Weasley said a bit too enthusiastically, twiddling the steering wheel nervously and accidentally flicking a few other knobs, such as one that sent the windscreen wipers churning and another that opened an ashtray stuffed with toffee wrappers. 'Happy birthday!' There were echoes of this sentiment all round, and then Ginny asked, 'What did you do?'

'Oh, my friend Hermione Granger – you know, from Hogwarts – came over,' said Evanna – and then, remembering Dobby very suddenly, added, 'And we found a house-elf in my bedroom ...'

Travelling as they were in a flying car, it didn't take long (or at least it didn't seem so to Evanna) to get to the Weasleys' place, The Burrow. After landing on a stretch of road a safe distance from the house, Mr Weasley again warned them to not mention it to Mrs Weasley before driving in. A plump woman, shorter than all three Weasley boys, came to greet them as they exited the car, stretching and groaning.

'Hello, Molly,' Mr Weasley said, kissing his wife quickly on the cheek.

'You're back rather quickly,' Mrs Weasley said, glancing suspiciously at the car. 'I suppose Muggles  _do_  know more than we give them credit for, don't they?'

'Yes,' said Mr Weasley, obviously silently begging his children to help him out. They rose to the occasion magnificently.

'We went a shorter way,' said Ron evasively.

'You know, through alleyways and things like that,' Ginny chimed in.

'And there wasn't very much traffic,' Fred added, winking at Evanna.

'Yeah, and Dad was very good at driving the way we wanted to go,' said George.

'Hmm,' said Mrs Weasley, but her expression softened. 'I'm very glad to see you both,' she said kindly to Dudley and Evanna. 'I expect you're tired.' She waved her wand at their trunks and they disappeared. 'I've sent them up to your rooms,' she explained. 'Fred and George, the garden needs de-gnoming again, do it before you head inside, please.'

'Oh,  _Mum_  ...'

'Don't argue with your mother,' Mr Weasley said sternly. 'Do as you're told.' The twins headed towards the back of the house, leaving Evanna to wonder what in the world de-gnoming was.

'Where's Percy?' asked Ron.

'He's in his room doing his homework,' answered Mrs Weasley, with a meaningful look at Fred and George's retreating backs. 'Ron, Ginny, why don't you show Dudley and Evanna inside?'

Carrying the basket with the now-snoozing Seraphine curled contentedly inside, Evanna followed Ginny through The Burrow's shabby yet cosy rooms to the first floor, which had two bedrooms. Ginny pushed open one of the doors.

'This is Bill's old room, but he moved to Egypt to do curse-breaking, so it's yours for the summer.' It was a nice-sized room, with a worn brown desk, a large window overlooking an orchard and long scratch marks on the faded wallpaper.

'Who's Bill?'

'My oldest brother. Charlie's not home either – he's in Romania working with dragons. He used to play Seeker for Gryffindor when he was at Hogwarts, as well. Whenever we visit him, Mum badgers him about settling down and getting married, but I reckon he likes dragons too much to get a girlfriend.'

With a jolt, Seraphine woke up and sprang onto the bed, knocking the basket out of Evanna's hand.

'Is that your cat? What's her name?' asked Ginny curiously, as Evanna picked up the basket, which had rolled under the desk.

'Seraphine – and how did you know she's a girl?'

Ginny shrugged. 'She looks like a girl cat. I love cats but we've never had one because of Ron's rat, Scabbers. He used to belong to Percy, but Percy got an owl for becoming a prefect' – she wrinkled her nose – 'so he passed Scabbers down to Ron. D'you want to see my room?'

Ginny's room was across the landing and noticeably smaller, though bright and with a window that also opened out over the orchard. It was also much more decorated – posters of wizarding bands and an all-girl Quidditch team lined the walls.

'How old are you?' asked Evanna.

'Eleven – well, almost. I can't wait to get to Hogwarts; I've been looking forwards to it ever since Bill went and ...'

Evanna was only half-listening. Another girl to spend the holidays with, even if she was a year younger ... She was beginning to think that a month at The Burrow wouldn't be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content credit: _Quidditch Through the Ages_ by J. K. Rowling (Plumpton Pass information)  
>  Content credit: Harry Potter Lexicon: (layouts of The Burrow and Little Whinging)


	3. Fight and Flight

Evanna was right. She'd been dreading the holiday simply because she didn't know Ron or the Weasleys well at all. But they were all very welcoming towards her and Dudley – all seven of them – and besides, The Burrow felt like something she couldn't quite express – warm and cosy and friendly and comfortable all at the same time. She spent her time writing to her friends and reading in a vacant pasture ringed by trees near The Burrow – that was, until Fred, George, Ron and Dudley showed up, all carrying broomsticks and talking at once.

'Let's play Quidditch,' Fred was saying. 'The Muggles can't see us from here if we don't fly above the trees. What d'you think?'

'Get Evanna to play,' Ron said suddenly. 'You should see her in Flying class – she's one of the best.'

George turned to Evanna. 'How about it?'

She shrugged. 'Only if you let Ginny play as well. Otherwise you won't have even numbers.'

As if on cue, Ginny emerged from the direction of the broom shed, carrying two battered broomsticks. Ignoring her brothers' astonishment, she tossed one to Evanna and threw her leg over the other. 'Let's get going,' she said matter-of-factly, by way of hello.

'You can't fly, Ginny,' said Fred, with the air of someone stubbornly saying that the earth is flat when all evidence is against it. 'And anyway, you're not –'

'Oh, can't I?' retorted Ginny mockingly, kicking hard off the ground and soaring off into the air. She let off a peal of laughter, spinning around and doing loop-the-loops before coming back to hover near them. 'Come on,' she said in a dignified voice, smirking slightly at Fred, George and Ron's open mouths. 'Shut your gobs and let's play. Fred, Ron and Evanna against George, Dudley and me.'

Ginny's sorting of the teams turned out to be very well done. 'Nice playing,' Fred said finally, when they had all landed after their sixth game – both teams having won three games each. 'Where'd you learn to fly like that, Ginny?'

Ginny stuck her tongue out at her older brother. 'Not telling.' Fred groaned in mock disappointment and turned to Evanna.

'You, too! Nobody's that good after one year of Hooch's classes.'

'Yeah, that was wicked,' George added. 'It's a pity you're not in Gryffindor, otherwise you could play Seeker for us this year. We're short again.'

'But don't even think about getting on the Slytherin team,' Fred said. 'We don't need someone as good as you playing against us.' There was a chorus of laughs, but only Evanna saw the interest on Dudley's face as they headed back to The Burrow.

* * *

On a bright Wednesday in August, the Weasleys plus Evanna and Dudley went to Diagon Alley. They travelled by Floo, which neither Evanna nor Dudley had done before, but fortunately everything went well and they all arrived in one piece (though Evanna did end up falling out of the fireplace onto Dudley, who'd neglected to move out of the way).

After collecting money from Evanna and the Weasleys' vaults in Gringotts, the group went their separate ways, with an agreement to meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour. Fred and George headed off to get some fireworks, Percy muttered something about a new quill, Mr and Mrs Weasley hustled Ginny towards a secondhand shop, Dudley and Ron admired the shiny new Nimbus Two Thousand and One broomstick in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, leaving –

'Cat!' Evanna turned just in time to be enveloped in an affectionate hug. Startled, she realised it was Tracey, who was beaming as they broke apart.

'Fancy seeing you here today!' Tracey said cheerfully. 'I don't suppose you've heard – I only got the letter this morning – but Daphne's sister's in St Mungo's.'

'Astoria? And what's St Mungo's?'

'You know – the wizarding hospital. It's in London. Oh, it's not really serious,' Tracey added hastily, catching Evanna's look. 'She got into a bit of trouble while running an errand – couple of Muggle boys came along and she ended up doing quite a bit of magic – well, accidental magic, 'cause she's only ten. She's at St Mungo's just to make sure she's OK.'

'What d'you mean? What could be wrong? Doesn't everyone do accidental magic?'

'Yes, but – see, Aunt Jillian works as a Healer –'

'A what? You mean a doctor?'

'What? She works as a Healer at St Mungo's, because she helps heal people. Don't interrupt. She explained it all to me once. The point of accidental magic is that it's accidental. You can't force anyone to do it. But those Muggle boys saw her do magic, so they cornered her and made her do it again. She got upset and did everything she could.'

'So, what's the worst thing that could have happened?'

Tracey winced. 'She  _could_  be the next thing to a Squib.'

_'What?'_

'But she might not be! She could be perfectly fine. It's just that if you're made to control your magic before you're eleven, you might have problems controlling it later. That's all.'

'Are you here by yourself?' Evanna asked, preparing to be impressed if Tracey said 'yes'. Aunt Petunia would never have let  _her_  do the same – at least not without Dudley there as well.

'Nah, Aunt Jill and Vanessa are in there,' Tracey said, nodding at the very same Magical Menagerie that Dudley had bought Iris from. 'Vanessa's picking out a present as a reward for becoming Head Girl. C'mon, let's go check out that Nimbus. I want to try out for the team this year – I've already got a pretty decent Comet, but you should get a broom of your own too.'

* * *

After a lot of advice from Ron and Tracey, Evanna finally decided on the very same Nimbus Ron and Dudley had been ogling. It cost a rather lot of money, but since Evanna had a small fortune left to her by her parents in her Gringotts vault, the price of a broom, even a new and expensive one, barely made a dent.

Dudley, meanwhile, settled for a sturdy Cleansweep Nine, something both Ron and Tracey approved of. It was then that he shared his knowledge.

'I talked to Wood in June, and there'll most likely be two openings this year on our team: Seeker again and probably Chaser. Chaser because Angelina Johnson wants to spend more time studying, as it's her O.W.L. year next year.'

'Her O.W.L. year  _next_  year?' Ron repeated, appalled. 'You wouldn't catch Fred and George studying a year ahead of time – or even studying at all, come to think of it.'

'There's not much chance I'll get any spot,' Dudley told the others cynically, 'but I might as well try. Madam Hooch told me I had a real flair for flying at the end of our last Flying class.'

Evanna was silent. Madam Hooch told  _her_  she had a gift for flying just about every class. ('You really ought to be on the house team! It's such a  _waste_ , letting all that raw talent go to no good use!')

The only reason Evanna wasn't on the Slytherin Quidditch team was because she disliked Quidditch. It seemed an inane, pointless game to her, the way it had when Madam Hooch had taken her to Professor Snape after her first Flying lesson and recommended her for a spot on the team, which Evanna had turned down.

The only thing she liked about it was flying itself. She didn't work well in a team, so she probably wouldn't be very good at the  _teamwork_  aspect of Quidditch anyway. But she adored flying – absolutely  _adored_  it – and saw it as a potential way to unwind, perhaps after a long and tiring week of classes and homework.

Soon afterwards, Tracey had to go home and Evanna, Dudley and Ron wandered around Diagon Alley ('That's the entrance to Knockturn Alley – Mum won't let any of us go down there though; it's supposed to be really dodgy and full of Dark stuff,' said Ron). Then, discovering that an hour had passed, they met the other Weasleys outside Flourish and Blotts, the bookshop. Most of the Alley seemed to be crowded around or inside it, and a banner hanging against the upper windows declared the reason why: a famous wizard was inside at that very moment, signing copies of his autobiography and (by the frequent flashes of light from inside) having his picture taken. The name was one Evanna recognised from her booklist, because he had written almost all the books on it: Gilderoy Lockhart.

Some way or other (it happened too fast to tell), after they had all grabbed books and were lining up to get them signed, Lockhart noticed Evanna and pulled her through the thickly-packed people, sending her books flying everywhere. He introduced her to the crowd as 'Lily Potter' – which annoyed Evanna inordinately – and she was forced to stay up at the front with him while they shook hands and struck a series of poses for the benefit of the  _Daily Prophet_  and the crowd in general, before he simply stood, one arm holding her tightly around her shoulders.

Evanna wanted nothing more to break away and rejoin Dudley and the Weasleys, but Lockhart kept a firm grip on the back of her robes. Then he started a speech which Evanna thought would last forever, because the crowd kept breaking into applause every time he stopped for breath (and also to flash his brilliant white teeth at the camera). He said something along the lines of teaching at Hogwarts in September, but Evanna was only aware of her burning face. Then he stopped speaking and pushed another huge pile of books into her arms and the people cheered wildly again, while Evanna wished she knew how to disappear into thin air like Dobby. Lockhart was jostled away from her by the surging crowd, giving her a chance to sidle back to the Weasleys, realising belatedly that Lockhart had just given her all of his books plus his autobiography,  _Magicial Me_ , for free.

'You should see your face,' said Dudley, chortling. 'I don't think they got many good pictures – though I suppose Lockhart's smile is so blinding nobody could see them anyway.' He glanced back at the reporter and photographer for the  _Daily Prophet_  – a blonde witch with elaborate blonde curls, winged glasses and an acid-green quill which was rapidly moving of its own accord across her parchment, and an irritable-looking man, half a head shorted than his partner, who had a huge camera.

'Well, if it isn't Arthur Weasley, the Muggle-loving fool,' drawled a curiously familiar voice, and a second later Evanna thought she knew why: the voice belonged to a tall, blond man with a face as pale and pointed as his son's.

As soon as Evanna's eyes met the cold grey ones of Mr Malfoy, a sharp stab of pain coursed through her scar and she dropped the stack of Lockhart books on the floor. Heart pounding furiously, she quickly dived down, gathered them up and straightened in time to hear Mr Weasley say coolly, 'Lucius Malfoy. Somehow I always thought this shop wasn't Dark enough for your tastes.'

Mr Malfoy's lip curled. At his side, Draco raised his chin stiffly, nodding to Evanna and Ron and ignoring Dudley completely.

'And I thought it was too expensive for yours,' Mr Malfoy said quietly. He reached into Ginny's cauldron and pulled out a battered secondhand copy of  _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ , his eyes passing over it in disgust. 'How much money are they paying you to investigate charmed teakettles, Arthur?' He surveyed the entire group and paused at Dudley and Evanna. 'And associating with Muggle-borns and ... dear me ...' Next second he had grabbed Evanna's chin and tilted it up, letting her hair fall away from her face to expose her scar, which was throbbing. Unable to stop herself, Evanna let out a gasp of pain.

'Get away from my cousin,' Dudley said roughly. Mr Malfoy turned sharply towards him, but loosened his grip on Evanna, who jerked away.

'Forgive me,' he murmured. 'Your scar is legend ... as is, of course, the wizard who gave it to you.' He looked down at the book in his hand, then at Ginny, who met his gaze bravely. 'Doesn't your father teach you any manners?' he said. 'At least not enough to teach you to watch the company that you keep.' His eyes swept over Dudley and Evanna again. 'Although I would expect nothing less from a blood-traitor family like yours.'

'Arthur, no!' cried Mrs Weasley, but it was too late. Mr Weasley launched himself at Mr Malfoy, who was knocked backwards several steps into the crowd. There were exclamations and indignant cries from the other customers, Mrs Weasley's shrieks of 'Arthur!' and the twins yelling, 'Get him, Dad!', but Evanna just rubbed her scar, trying desperately not to panic. Hagrid came along – he pulled Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy apart, setting them both on their feet and brushing Mr Weasley off so hard he almost knocked him face-first into somebody's cauldron. The crowd had scattered. Amidst the mess of books and parchment that had been knocked over, they could all plainly see Mr Malfoy and Draco. The former was livid; the latter, indifferent.

'Evanna, dear, are you feeling all right?' Mrs Weasley asked, peering into Evanna's face. Mr Weasley was still glaring daggers at Mr Malfoy.

'Headache,' Evanna muttered, rubbing her forehead. Sick fear rose in her stomach. The last time this had happened, she'd been in the presence of Voldemort – but surely he couldn't be  _here_  ... could he?

'A headache, Lily Potter?' Mr Malfoy said with oily politeness. Evanna didn't dare look at him. 'My condolences. Perhaps it is an omen ...'

Evanna wished he hadn't suggested it – but what if it were true?

Mr Malfoy was still clutching the Transfiguration book. He thrust it out at Ginny, saying something, but Evanna couldn't hear what it was, because suddenly the pain in her scar spiked and she doubled over, clutching her head. Cries of surprise rang out and then Dudley was there, his wide eyes right in front of hers.

'Cat, Cat, are you all right?'

The headache subsided slightly and Evanna straightened, feeling cold and clammy. Her scar was still throbbing faintly. Mr Malfoy and Draco had disappeared.

'Oh, dear, you really don't look very well,' Mrs Weasley said, exchanging a glance with her husband. 'Perhaps it would be better if I took Evanna home now, Arthur, and you can bring the others once they've finished shopping.' She prised the Lockhart books out of Evanna's hands and gave them to Ginny to hold. Taking Evanna's shoulder, she guided her back to the Leaky Cauldron, where they had arrived earlier that morning. Evanna stared straight ahead, swallowing rapidly and trying very hard not to throw up. Some day it had turned out to be.

'The Burrow!' Mrs Weasley called, dropping a pinch of Floo powder into the fire. The scene whirled and the Leaky Cauldron disappeared. Evanna couldn't breathe as the fire magicked them away, spinning around, faster and faster ... she knocked her elbow on a wall and hastily pulled it in ... Mrs Weasley steered her out into the main room of The Burrow ... unable to hold it in any longer, she staggered forwards a step or two and was promptly sick all over the rug.

'I'm sorry,' Evanna whispered hoarsely, horribly guilty as Mrs Weasley gasped and (without pausing to clean up the mess) escorted Evanna, who was shaking, to the bathroom before pushing her into the bed in Bill's old room. Then she felt Evanna's forehead before Evanna could jerk away. 'Now, dear, you just stay right there and I'll see if I can get some potions to fix that. Call me if you need me.' She waited until Evanna nodded before bustling out of the room, muttering something unintelligible.

Evanna just lay there as the pounding lessened and the pain slowly receded from her scar. Beneath all the guilt she felt for ruining Dudley and the Weasleys' shopping trip and forcing Mrs Weasley to take her home, there was terror. She hardly wanted to admit it, even to herself, but she was scared. Her scar hadn't hurt at all since that time in June when Quirrell had kidnapped her and forced her to drink the Draught of Living Death. Did this mean that Voldemort was getting stronger again? Did it have something to do with – her stomach lurched unpleasantly – Lucius Malfoy? Her scar hadn't started hurting until he'd shown up. Idly she wondered where Seraphine was.

Mrs Weasley entered, a small blue bottle in one hand. 'Here you are, Evanna, dear,' she said kindly, handing it to Evanna. 'Drink it all – and then try to sleep. You're still looking rather peaky.' Evanna did as she was told. The potion tasted like a combination of ginger beer, strawberries and liquorice, but she drained the bottle in one long sip. Warmth spread through her body, making her fingertips tingle. When she looked up, Mrs Weasley had gone.

Evanna didn't recall falling asleep, but she was awoken by thumping and loud voices from downstairs. There was a furry black muffler near her stomach. Seraphine had come in at one point and was curled up on top of the covers.

'– did you see that nosy reporter?'

'– Percy, you're standing on my foot, just thought you might want to know before –'

'– put yours and Evanna's broomsticks in the shed, Dud –'

'– Ginny, get up before Percy steps on you, too –'

'– something fell out of my textbook –'

'– you'll wake Evanna if you don't all quieten down!'

There were rapid taps as various people hurried up and down the stairs. Evanna was just wondering whether or not to go downstairs and help, when somebody came into the room.

It was Dudley.

'Cat, are you all right? Mrs Weasley said you threw up.'

'I'm fine,' Evanna said truthfully, the guilt returning as she remembered the rug. 'Listen, Dud – it was my scar that was hurting in Flourish and Blotts. It was OK up 'til then, but started when Draco and his dad came over.'

Dudley frowned. 'You think Malfoy's dad got something to do with this? The way Quirrell was helping You-Know-Who last year?'

'I don't think it's the same. It seems –  _different_  – I don't know how to explain it,' she said, frustrated. 'But I  _do_  know I don't want a repeat of last year. You know we barely managed to persuade Aunt Petunia to let me go back to Hogwarts.'

Dudley nodded. 'Oh, and the others want to have a go at Quidditch with the new brooms. You don't have to play if you're not feeling up to it, but –'

'I'm fine,' Evanna said quickly, springing out of bed (and narrowly avoiding Seraphine, who glared at her reproachfully). 'Let's go, I can't wait to try mine out.'

They were halfway through their second game when Evanna realised one thing.

Her scar was no longer prickling.


	4. The Barrier Between

To Evanna's relief, her scar barely hurt at all during the next few weeks with the Weasleys. Only slight irritation came irregularly, and she soon devised a way to get rid of it - by distracting herself with something like Quidditch or a conversation with Dudley. But it all only served to make her uneasy. Why had her scar reacted as soon as Draco and Lucius Malfoy appeared? And would it happen again while she was at Hogwarts? Last year had been bad enough - she didn't think she could stand another nine months of weekly headaches. At least she knew who the Defence teacher was ahead of time. He was annoying, of course, and insufferably vain, but at least he seemed harmless.

The rest of the holidays at The Burrow passed quickly. Evanna spent the days playing Quidditch with Dudley and all the other Weasley children except Percy, who stayed in his bedroom and only came out for meals. On the night before Evanna and Dudley were to leave, Mrs Weasley cooked up a feast which they ate outside in the garden. When it was too dark to distinguish treacle tart from pumpkin pie, Fred and George surprised them all with a magnificent display of colourful Filibuster fireworks.

Evanna woke early the next morning with mixed feelings. Going back to Privet Drive would be wonderful, of course, but it had its downsides (living near none of her friends in a dreary Muggle neighbourhood, for example). She was almost dreading returning, but was looking forwards to it at the same time because she quicker she got there, the quicker she could leave and go to Hogwarts.

Mr Weasley drove Dudley and Evanna back to Number Four, Privet Drive - well,  _flew_  them, to be a bit more accurate - and if Mrs Weasley was suspicious that everybody except herself and Percy were all squashing into one Muggle car, she didn't say a word about it as she gave Evanna a quick hug and whispered, 'Be sure to tell your aunt and uncle that it's been wonderful having you and that you're welcome back here again - you and Dudley both.'

Fortunately Dudley only seemed to get carsick in cars whose wheels were firmly on the ground, and thanks to Mr Weasley's semi-legal charm, they all had plenty of elbow room. Ginny produced a half-full bag of toffees from the glove compartment, and as it was a bright August day they all wound down the windows and let the cool air blow through the car. This was refreshing, at least until the forgotten toffee wrappers started fluttering around and almost caused Mr Weasley to brake in mid-air, unable to see past the smattering of wrappers plastered stickily on the inside of the windscreen.

Just like on their first trip, Mr Weasley landed in the alleyway connecting Wisteria Walk and Magnolia Crescent before driving smoothly up to Number 4, Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were standing in the driveway, waving the same way they had when Dudley and Evanna had left, as if no time had passed. But as everyone got out of the car, Evanna could see differences: Aunt Petunia seemed to have let her hair down, both physically and (Evanna hoped) mentally; it blew around her face. Both she and Uncle Vernon were noticeably tanned.

'How was it?' asked Evanna cautiously, once they had all climbed out of the car and the usual greetings exchanged. 'Your holiday, I mean.'

'Oh, it was heavenly,' said Aunt Petunia, with a very uncharacteristic sigh of contentment. 'Your uncle and I had a wonderful time - but it's lovely to see you again. We missed you; you'll have to write to us at least twice a week once you're at Hogwarts or I won't let you go back at all.' She swept Dudley into a tight hug.

'Mum, don't ...' muttered Dudley, his face red. Ron sniggered. Dudley scowled.

'And you, too,' Aunt Petunia said, letting go of Dudley at last and turning to Evanna. 'Was it all right? Were you and Dudley good? Did you get sick? I hope you finished all your homework. Did you miss us?'

'I finished it last week,' Evanna said, slightly irritated at the barrage of questions. 'Dud and I got some brooms from Quality Quidditch Supplies and we practiced flying.'

'They were great,' Mr Weasley told Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon overhead. 'No need to worry. I don't think Evanna enjoyed Diagon Alley much - I seem to remember that she got sick and Molly took her home early. But otherwise, they had a good time - er, you  _did_ , didn't you - and I know the kids all got along well.'

'You got sick?' began Aunt Petunia, but luckily she caught Uncle Vernon's eye and decided against pursuing the topic. Fred and George had pulled Dudley and Evanna's trunks out of the boot and stood around with ominously bulging pockets.

'Well, if that's it, we should be off,' said Mr Weasley at last, glancing around at his children. '

Ginny lingered before getting into the passenger seat, and Evanna took the opportunity for one last bit of communication.

'I'll come and find you on the train,' she promised Ginny. 'You can sit with me and my friends if you like and I'll give you a tour of Hogwarts once we're there so you won't get lost.'

'But suppose -'

'Ginny, hurry up,' called one of the twins. Ginny turned away from Evanna and climbed into the car, which had already begun to move. Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley were entering the house by now, but Evanna watched the Ford Anglia until it disappeared around the bend once again.

* * *

In contrast to the past month, that last day at Number Four, Privet Drive passed agonisingly slowly. Evanna packed and repacked her trunk, then, growing tired of that, wandered restlessly around the house. Somehow the rooms which had been so comforting and interesting for ten years paled in comparison to the vivid wonder of Hogwarts and even The Burrow. What had they ever done before Hogwarts, anyway? No magic, no moving staircases ... well, she supposed she didn't miss having the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher out to get her, but other than that ... She missed the Slytherin dungeon and the Astronomy Tower and Hermione's arguments with Daphne and Ron so much it hurt. She even found herself longing for Hermione to pop up and drag them all off to the library.

Uncle Vernon had to work on September the first, so Aunt Petunia, Dudley and Evanna took the Knight Bus to King's Cross. After getting the attention of Joelle Meadowes, who was busy talking to a young woman with spiky pink hair, they found some empty mismatched armchairs near the front. Evanna had no sooner settled herself and Seraphine than someone whispered in her ear.

'Hey, Cat.'

Evanna turned. Daphne was winking from the seat behind her.

'Daphne! How are you? And your sister? Your last letter, you said ... I don't really get it ...'

'None of us do either,' Daphne said grimly. 'For some reason, the Healers aren't happy and keep asking Mum to bring Tori into St Mungo's for more tests. I think they're making a fuss over nothing - Tori's the same as always - but Mum doesn't want to take any chances.'

'Are they there now, then?'

Daphne nodded.

'So ... you're here alone?'

'Not really,' said Daphne. She inclined her head at the pink-haired woman, who was no older than Tracey's cousin Jack. 'That's Dora. She's a cousin of some sort.'

'Second,' Dora clarified, coming over to them and sitting behind Dudley just before the Knight Bus lurched and set off with an enormous BANG. 'Call me Tonks,' she added, over the clanging and screeching of metal and tyres.

'That's her last name,' Daphne said helpfully. She grabbed the back of Evanna's chair to stop herself from sliding as they rounded a corner. 'Her real first name's Nymphadora -'

'Yeah, and you don't call me that unless you want to be hexed into the middle of next week,' said Tonks, glaring amiably at Daphne. 'And I'm training to be an Auror, so you don't want to mess with me.'

'Evanna Potter.' She cringed in spirit, waiting for the gasp of recognition and the familiar glance at her forehead, but Tonks merely did a double take and nodded. Evanna felt relieved.

King's Cross station was incredibly crowded by the time the Knight Bus arrived. As they approached platforms nine and ten with laden trolleys, Evanna saw Aunt Petunia check her watch. 'Hurry up or you'll miss the train,' she said nervously. Her eyes were flicking between Evanna and Dudley, the latter of whom was faintly green, and she seemed to make up her mind. 'I'll go first with Dudley, but you come right after us, you hear?'

Evanna nodded. Aunt Petunia gave her a kiss (Evanna's face burned) and returned to Dudley. Together they pushed the trolley towards the barrier, gaining speed. A swarm of Muggles bustled past, blocking Evanna's view. When they had dispersed, Aunt Petunia and Dudley had disappeared.

'Come on, then, we'd best get going, too,' Tonks said after a moment, glancing at the clock hanging over platform ten. 'You two go together; I'll be right behind you.'

Evanna and Daphne straightened their trolleys towards the magical barrier Aunt Petunia and Dudley had just vanished into. A surge of exhilaration rushed through Evanna - she felt very wise and experienced - this was nothing like Floo travel - all they had to do was run through the barrier and they'd be on platform nine-and-three-quarters, ready to board the Hogwarts Express -

CRASH.

Both trolleys collided with the metal barrier, bouncing backwards. Seraphine's basket fell and rolled over and over, Seraphine letting out indignant yowls; Daphne's trolley tipped and she fell sideways onto Evanna; before they could untangle themselves, Tonks tripped over them, stepping on Evanna's hand and going flying.

Evanna gasped, snatching her hand away and struggling to get up. They needed to get out of there; they were attracting too much attention. People around them shrieked and yelled, and a nearby guard bellowed, 'What in blazes d'you think you're doing?'

Tonks emerged, righting Daphne's trolley and nudging the barrier with her foot conspicuously. She went to attempt to placate the guard while Evanna dived for Seraphine's basket, which had knocked against a wall. Daphne joined her.

'Why can't we get through?'

'No idea,' Evanna said, rubbing Seraphine (who was cleaning herself off with a very disgruntled air). 'Has this happened before, d'you know?'

'Not that I've heard of,' said Tonks, who had come up behind her. She looked at the clock again. Evanna and Daphne saw the movement and followed her eyes.

It read one minute past eleven.

'We've missed the train!'

'If we can't get through, then the people on the other side can't get back here.' Evanna's stomach contracted at another thought. 'Aunt Petunia'll be worried sick.'

'It's probably just someone's idea of a joke,' said Tonks, but she was frowning nevertheless. 'I'll find your aunt and tell her what's happened, but first we need to get you two to Hogwarts.'

'Couldn't we call the Knight Bus back?' asked Evanna.

'No, that wouldn't do,' said Tonks, after a moment's hesitation. 'Can't just show up early without any warning, you know ... Daphne, can't you contact your mum in some way?'

'What - oh, yeah,' said Daphne. She pulled a familiar mirror out of her pocket and stepped away from Evanna and Tonks, returning a few minutes later.

'Mum and Tori just got home,' she announced, tucking the mirror out of sight. 'She says to come home, too, and that she's going to Floo Professor Dumbledore to tell him what's happened. Oh, and you're to come as well, Cat.'

'Are you sure -'

'Positive,' said Daphne firmly.

'Well, that's settled, then,' said Tonks brightly, after a pause.

Daphne and her mother and sister lived barely fifteen minutes' walk away from King's Cross. Number seventy-eight Blackthorn Crescent, which they found hidden in a maze of streets and alleyways (unlike the orderly Little Whinging) was a very tidy, if shabby and small, home with a green door and a row of dead or dying rosebushes out front.

A tall woman opened the door. With her long dark hair, full red lips and 'ebony-and-ivory' complexion, she resembled an older version of Daphne. Indeed, if it were not for the careworn lines on her face, she might even have been Daphne's older sister.

'Hello, Evanna,' she said. 'It's been a long time since I saw you last, but your eyes still look every bit like your mother's.'

'How come you -'

'Your parents were very good friends with my brother and me,' Mrs Greengrass said equivocally, as they entered the house. 'I used to babysit you sometimes, before you and your parents went into hiding.'

Evanna badly wanted to ask which brother, but having been reminded by Daphne beforehand the fates of them both, regretfully discarded that idea.

'How are we getting to Hogwarts, Mum?' asked Daphne, changing the subject in the nick of time.

'Fawkes,' said Mrs Greengrass. 'He should be here any minute now ... why don't you show Evanna around? See if you can get your sister out of her room, too. I don't need another hole blasted through the wall.'

'I've got to go, Noctua,' said Tonks regretfully, as Mrs Greengrass turned questioningly to her. 'Got to let Evanna's aunt know where she is.' She nodded at Mrs Greengrass and tipped Evanna and Daphne a wink and turned to leave. All three of them heard a muffled swear word as she managed to trip over the doormat before the door slammed shut.

'Who's Fawkes?' Evanna asked Daphne, as they made their way down the corridor.

'Dumbledore's phoenix. During the last war, there was a secret society Dumbledore set up to fight Voldemort. Both my parents and yours were in it. He called it the Order of the Phoenix, after Fawkes.'

Evanna dimly remembered a certain present that had arrived anonymously via phoenix the previous Christmas.

'My  _parents_  were in it?'

'That was what I said, wasn't it?' said Daphne shortly. 'Come on, let's go find Astoria. She's probably trying to build a rocketship to Mars. The worst thing she ever did was demolish her room and part of the garden wall as well. It took three Ministry workers to reverse it.'

'Isn't that illegal? I mean, you're not allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts, right?'

Daphne made a face. 'Technically it isn't actually  _illegal_ , because she's only ten and she's not actually performing magic, just using magic things. Mum reckons she'll be good at Potions come Hogwarts.' Daphne stopped at a door with 'Astoria's Room' handwritten on the front in huge, sprawling letters. 'Tori, come out and get some fresh air before you poison yourself.'

There was a series of small bangs, like somebody was setting off toy firecrackers, a thump and a stifled squeal before the door was opened by a small girl with big brown eyes and curly blonde hair that was singed at the ends. A faint smell of smoke permeated the room.

'I wasn't even using anything poisonous!' she said indignantly. 'And what are you doing here?'

'Missed the train,' said Daphne airily. 'The barrier wouldn't let us through, for some reason. Fawkes is going to take us there as soon as he arrives.'

'Who are  _you_?' Astoria asked, thrusting her chin out at Evanna.

'Oh, this is Evanna Potter,' Daphne said impatiently. 'The Girl Who Lived, and all that. Also known as Cat, but not to be confused with that feline creature in her arms.'

Astoria rolled her eyes. A voice behind them made them all turn.

'Daphne, Evanna, gather your things, please,' said Mrs Greengrass. 'Fawkes is in the kitchen, waiting for you.'

They collected their trunks from where they had left them near the door and headed into the low-ceilinged, old-fashioned kitchen. A enormous bird with red and gold feathers was perched on the back of a chair. As Evanna and Daphne came into the room, it took off into the air and landed on Evanna's shoulder. She felt Daphne's warm hand hurriedly thrust into her own a second before the kitchen disappeared. A rushing in her ears ... the sensation of moving very fast ... she shut her eyes, and when she opened them, Fawkes' weight had gone from her shoulder and she and Daphne, along with their trunks and Seraphine's basket, were in a huge circular room filled with snoozing portraits and magical books - and one man with half-moon glasses and a long white beard tucked into his belt.

'Good morning, Evanna and Daphne,' said Professor Dumbledore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference credit: _A Very Potter Musical_ by Team StarKid (Daphne's line about Astoria building a rocketship to Mars)


	5. The Meaning of Early

'How does Fawkes do that?' asked Evanna, staring at the phoenix, who had flown up onto a perch and was preening contentedly.

Dumbledore smiled. 'In addition to being capable of carrying heavy loads and lavishing immense loyalty, phoenixes can also travel by fire.' He flicked his wand at their trunks, which disappeared. 'I have just sent your luggage down to your dormitory. The new password is  _Cras es Noster_.'

But Evanna was still thinking about Fawkes. Hadn't Aunt Petunia said that her dad's Invisibility Cloak she'd received last Christmas had been delivered by a phoenix - and from  _Dumbledore_ , no less? And what about -?

'Professor, can you tell us more about the Order of -ow!' Evanna yelped as Daphne trod hard on her foot. Dumbledore looked faintly amused.

'It's just about lunchtime, and I find that I sometimes have difficulty thinking on an empty stomach. Perhaps you would like to pay a visit to the kitchens? Tell the house-elves I sent you - on second thought, that might be unecessary, as I am sure that you have visited before. I would be wary about letting Miss Granger know, however. Chances are that she might not approve as thoroughly as I do.'

Daphne stifled a snort.

* * *

'How did he know we've been to the kitchens before?' Evanna said, waving a piece of battered fish under Seraphine's nose. She and Daphne were walking down the hill to Hagrid's hut, having just eaten their fill of the rich Hogwarts food at the kitchens. Seraphine was curled up in Daphne's arms, looking very much like a warm black muffler.

Daphne shrugged. 'It's like he knows just about everything that goes on here. Beats me how he does it.' She rubbed Seraphine's fur absently. 'Maybe he talks to the house-elves.'

'Why d'you think we couldn't get to the platform?' asked Evanna.

'Someone's idea of a joke, like Dora said,' said Daphne dismissively. 'Though I'd love to know whose.' She jumped up, suddenly energised, and Seraphine yowled indignantly as she was sent tumbling to the ground. 'Come on, Cat, let's go visit Hagrid.'

Hagrid met them at the door.

'Well, not that I'm not glad ter see yeh, mind ... but aren't yeh a little early?'

Evanna explained about the barrier and how they had got to Hogwarts, and Hagrid nodded his approval.

'Always was a bright one, Tonks was. An' training ter be an Auror, is she? Well, if anyone could pass that, it'd be her. Yeh'll wish her good luck for me, won't yeh? We was always good friends ... she used ter come down an' make faces at Fang ...'

Hagrid's rock cakes were ... well, rock hard - so much that Evanna put hers down hurriedly after biting into one and hearing a cracking noise from inside her mouth that did not sound like a rock cake breaking. (Daphne discreetly softened hers in her tea.)

'Come round the back, I've got summat to show yeh,' Hagrid said suddenly, standing up. Glad for an excuse to abandon her rock cake, Evanna followed him out the cabin's back door towards a small corral at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Tethered inside the corral were two horse-like creatures - one blindingly white, one smaller and golden.

'Unicorns!' said Daphne, walking very slowly towards them and petting the golden one. 'How come you've got them here, Hagrid? I thought they lived in the Forest.'

'Well, so they do, but Professor Kettleburn wants 'em fer Care of Magical Creatures,' said Hagrid. 'You remember how I told yeh last year someone or somethin' was killin' the unicorns, Evanna?'

Evanna nodded.

'Professor Dumbledore came down ter explain it all ter me. Turns out' - he lowered his voice, though there was no one nearby - 'turns out it was You-Know-Who possessing Professor Quirrell that was killin' them, can yeh believe it? Beau'iful creatures, unicorns. You should go up and pet one, Evanna. They like girls more'n boys. Go on - slowly does it - tha's good ...'

Evanna reached out a hand and tentatively stroked the tall white unicorn's back. It was the softest hair she had ever seen, but as soon as her fingers touched it, the unicorn gave a small shudder that resonated throughout its whole body and she felt its back tense under her hand.

'Ah, thats a shame,' said Hagrid. 'Maybe yer hand's cold.' He nodded appreciatively at Daphne, who had moved a little way away with the golden unicorn. 'Your friend Daphne,  _she_  knows how it's done. Though maybe it's just the unicorn. The foals - that's when they're still golden - don't mind human touch so much.'

There was a pause, in which Evanna steeled herself to say what she'd been wanting to. Then she took a deep breath.

'Hagrid,' she said, looking up into his beetle-black eyes and speaking under her breath so that Daphne would not hear, 'thanks for the album. I never had any wizard photos of - of my parents before.'

Hagrid smiled into his beard, his eyes suddenly shiny.

'Ah ... knew yeh'd like it ... though yeh ought ter thank yer friend Tracey instead, seein's she asked her aun' for a bunch an' sent it all ter yeh ...'

She turned away, blinking hard, but next thing she knew, Hagrid's enormous arms were around her, almost cracking her ribs. It was warm and comforting, but Evanna pulled away as soon as she could. If he held her any longer, she might burst into tears, and she really didn't want to start crying right here and now.

Daphne had come up. 'Cat,' she said, and there was something in her voice which let Evanna know that she'd seen, 'd'you want to go back to the castle? Maybe we can find some of the secret passages that only Ron's brothers know about.'

* * *

Even with a castle as big as Hogwarts, there were only so many times they could explore mindlessly before losing interest. Tired and disgruntled, they ended up in their dormitory several hours later, still discussing what they found. Evanna had flatly refused to visit the Room of Hidden Things, and the right wing of the dungeons was again off-bounds, due to the recent collapse (in which Evanna had been involved), but they'd managed to find a plethora of hidden passageways and entrances, though (as Daphne said disappointedly) not the location of any of the other common rooms. Evanna stretched out on her bed and tried to remember that morning. It seemed so long ago. Aunt Petunia had made her and Dudley get up very early. She yawned and glanced at her watch. She'd only sleep for a minute ...

'Cat, wake up! Everyone else will be arriving by now!' Daphne was shaking her.

Evanna sprang up, saw that Daphne was already in her robes, rummaged through her trunk and changed as quickly as she could, making sure her wand was in her pocket. Together they hurried out of the dungeons towards the Great Hall. Evanna could hear a commotion coming from the inside. Silently hoping they weren't too late, she tugged the door open.

Students had already begun pouring in from the Entrance Hall, laughing and chattering, so Evanna and Daphne were able to escape unnoticed as they headed to the Slytherin table, which was adjacent to the Gryffindor one. Not for long, however ...

'Where have you two been?' a bossy voice demanded from behind them, and Evanna and Daphne turned around just in time to be enveloped in a bear hug from Hermione. 'We looked  _all over_  the train for you.'

'And believe me, that was a big search,' said Tracey, who'd separated herself from the crowd to join them. 'No one even saw you get on the train.'

'Yeah, that's 'cause -'

'Cat!'

Dudley had come up, Ron at his side.

' _There_  you are! Mum was going mental, I tell you, when you didn't come through the barrier. She was ready to call 999, but I said she'd have a hard time explaining it to the police. How  _did_  you get here?'

Evanna explained as quickly as she could, but it was hard when Dudley and Hermione kept asking questions and Daphne kept interjecting. (Tracey simply looked sufficiently curious.)

'So, you had the castle to  _yourselves_?' said Ron, looking impressed.

'Er ... kind of,' said Evanna, deciding not to mention Hagrid or the unicorns. 'Bit boring, to tell the truth. And it makes it easier to get lost.'

'Yeah, but  _still_  ...'

While Hermione peppered Daphne with questions, Evanna looked up at the staff table. Professor Dumbledore sat in the very middle chair, looking down at his intertwined fingers and apparently deep in thought. It was hard to not feel cheerful when back at Hogwarts, even after everything that had happened last year. Why, there were Professor McGonagall and Professor Sinistra (who taught Astronomy), Professor Sprout talking to Professor Flitwick. Beyond several teachers whom Evanna did not know was Evanna's Head of House, Severus Snape. Due to being thoroughly unlikeable and his blatant tendency to favour Slytherins over all the other students, he was unpopular with the majority of the school. Sitting next Snape was someone who was as different to him as could be. In the same place that Quirrell had occupied the year before sat Gilderoy Lockhart, his brilliant teeth glittering in the candlelight.

Evanna's heart sank. How could she have forgotten, even after the fiasco that was that trip to Diagon Alley? She debated briefly in her head and decided she'd take Lockhart over Quirrell any day. Weekly headaches were not something she missed. Still, was it too much for Dumbledore to hire a Defence professor that was both a good teacher and not trying to kill her?

'I do wish they'd hurry up,' said Tracey, glancing at the closed doors to the Entrance Hall. 'You'd think they'd decided to swim across the lake this year ...'

'Who?' asked Dudley.

'The first-years, of course. Hagrid always takes them across the lake - remember last year? All the rest come by the carriages, like we did.'

Tracey was a pure-blood and lived with her aunt, uncle and much-older cousins, meaning that she knew a lot about Hogwarts and wizarding society that Evanna, Dudley and Hermione didn't.

'Here they are,' Hermione said suddenly, retreating to the Gryffindor table along with Dudley and Ron as Evanna, Tracey and Daphne sat at the Slytherin one. The room quietened as Professor McGonagall led a straggly line of first-years from the Entrance Hall to the front of the Great Hall. Taking a raggedy hat and a stool, she set the stool in the middle of the floor and the hat upon it. There was a moment of silence while everybody looked at what Evanna knew to be the Sorting Hat, and then a rip opened near its brim and a loud voice came from it, singing loudly and jovially:

> _Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts -  
>  _ _That's how the song begins  
>  _ _But did you ever spare a thought  
>  _ _For the houses' origins?  
>  _ _The founders came together  
>  _ _An ambitious lot were they  
>  _ _Opinions ranged far and wide  
>  _ _And each one had a say.  
>  _ _And these students they preferred  
>  _ _They chose and called the best.  
>  _ _Slytherin picked only those  
>  _ _With cunning past the rest;  
>  _ _Gryffindor decided on  
>  _ _The daring, brave at heart;  
>  _ _Ravenclaw admired ones  
>  _ _With wit in no small part;  
>  _ _And Hufflepuff was sure to find  
>  _ _The loyal, just and true.  
>  _ _They left me here to help decide  
>  _ _Which house is right for you.  
>  _ _So let me see inside your head -  
>  _ _I'll help you find your kind  
>  _ _There is a place for everyone;  
>  _ _You won't get left behind._

Evanna decided she liked what she could remember of last year's song better, but clapped along with the everybody else nevertheless. That song had been funny and clever. This one seemed ... amateurish, for lack of a better word. She'd have thought the hat got plenty of practice - what did it  _do_  during the rest of the year, anyway?

Professor McGonagall had been talking to the first-years. Now she opened a huge scroll of parchment and began reading out names.

'Andrews, Patrick!'

A boy with thick brown hair went up and sat on the three-legged stool and put the hat on his head. There was a few moments' silence, then -

'GRYFFINDOR!' shouted the hat.

The Gryffindor table burst into applause as Patrick Andrews stumbled over, looking a little dazed. Professor McGonagall consulted her list and continued calling out names.

'Bowman, Charlotta!'

A girl with big blue bows in her hair ...

'HUFFLEPUFF!'

'Chant, Gwendolen!'

A blonde witch separated herself from the crowd and walked confidently up ...

'SLYTHERIN!'

'Creevey, Colin!'

A small, mousey-haired boy ran up to don the hat, almost tripping over in his excitement ...

'GRYFFINDOR!'

It seemed to take forever. Evanna almost dozed off again, right then and there, but the constant outbreaks of applause made it impossible. Had it taken this long at her own Sorting?

'Jones, Felix!'

'RAVENCLAW!'

'King, Daniel!'

'HUFFLEPUFF!'

'Lovegood, Luna!'

A girl with long blonde hair down her back walked up, her head tipped to one side. She looked as if she were daydreaming the whole time, even after the hat called out her house.

'RAVENCLAW!'

'Mitchell, Elizabeth!'

'HUFFLEPUFF!'

And then, right near the end ...

'Weasley, Ginny!'

Ginny separated herself from the handful of first-years left and sat down on the stool, her small head almost disappearing underneath the hat. Evanna crossed her fingers under the table, even though she knew Ginny would prefer being in Gryffindor with the rest of her family to being in Slytherin with someone she had only known for a few months.

'GRYFFINDOR!'

Evanna clapped along with the Gryffindors as Ginny handed the hat back to Professor McGonagall and went to sit with some other Gryffindor first-years. A few minutes later, the Sorting was over, and Dumbledore clapped his hands for silence.

'Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!' he said brightly. I only have a few things to announce, but I can see that you will listen better on full stomachs - so, without further ado -'

He raised his hand, and everyone gasped in amazement, even those who knew what came next. Between the rows of golden plates that lined the tables appeared hundreds of dishes, containing foods from steak-and-kidney pie to mashed potatoes and gravy to Yorkshire pudding.

The rest of the night passed in a bit of a haze. After the feast was over, Dumbledore announced what everyone already knew or had guessed (that Gilderoy Lockhart was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher), before sending them all to bed.

'I suppose he can't help it, being famous and all,' said Tracey, as they got into their pyjamas.

'Dumbledore's famous, but you can't see him going on about it all the time, can you?' Daphne countered.

'My dad says he doesn't believe Dumbledore's half as great as people say he is,' said Pansy.

Evanna got into bed hurriedy, wanting to avoid being dragged into an argument. Fortunately, the disagreement was short-lived. Before long, the dormitory was silent, except for the occasional soothing sound of the giant squid swimming by.


	6. Much Cajoling

Even though Evanna and Daphne had spent the previous afternoon at Hogwarts, being the first to wake up in the green-tinted, cool-toned Slytherin dormitory was jarring at first for Evanna. She was well accustomed to her own patchily-wallpapered bedroom at Privet Drive (Aunt Petunia had done it herself, in an energetic fit of ambition, and the result was not altogether satisfactory). But though she had grown used to 'Bill's old room' at The Burrow, it had nothing on the Slytherin dungeon under the lake. Evanna let out a sigh of content. How good it was to be back!

By the time the second-years made their way up to the Great Hall for breakfast, it was past eight o'clock and the Hall was already mostly full. Throughout the whole period Evanna, Tracey and Daphne were there, handfuls of first-years trickled in late, having presumably got lost on their way.

'Pass the pumpkin juice, would you, Daph?' said Tracey, stifling a wide yawn. Mornings were not her strong suit.

'Wake up, Tracey, it's right in front of you,' said Daphne shortly. Tracey blinked, looking sheepish. Evanna busied herself with collecting bacon and eggs for her toast. Further along the table, she could hear Draco Malfoy bragging to Crabbe and Goyle.

'... and Father's bought me the latest in racing brooms, a Nimbus Two Thousand and One.  _Much_  better than those pathetic school brooms we had last year, and miles ahead of the ones on the Gryffindor team, like those Weasley twins'. I don't know why they were allowed in at all - Gryffindor will settle for anything halfway decent, I suppose. Anyway, I aim to go to the Slytherin tryouts as soon as ...'

Fortunately, a distraction arrived as Vanessa Summers, who was Tracey's cousin and Head Girl, began handing out the new Slytherin timetables. Evanna scanned hers and saw that the second-years had half the afternoon off - there were only double Charms in the morning and History of Magic after lunch. A decent start to the school year - even if it meant double Potions on Wednesday and a midnight Astronomy lesson on Friday.

Tracey leant over to the Gryffindor table to talk to Hermione. 'What've you got?'

'Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, then Transfiguration,' said Hermione, still hunched over her timetable. Ron Weasley, who was next to her, peered over her shoulder and tried to ease the parchment from her grip.

'What are you drawing? Are those little  _hearts_ , or -'

'They're nothing!' Hermione said hastily, blushing as she tugged her timetable away from Ron and turned it over. 'I was just ... marking the lessons I'm looking forwards to, that's all.'

'Yes, but around Lock-' began Ron, but at that moment, Dudley's elbow knocked a jug of pumpkin juice all over Ron's toast, and the rest of Ron's sentence was lost in the confusion. Hermione, still a little pink, continued marking her timetable serenely, ignoring Ron and Dudley.

Tracey turned back to Evanna and Daphne.

'Charms starts in ten minutes,' Daphne said briefly. 'You'd better eat, or we'll be late for Flitwick.'

To Evanna and Tracey's despair, they seemed to have forgotten everything they'd learnt last year. Feeling very inept, they spent the class shooting feeble, overdramatic Tickling Charms at each other, while Daphne and Blaise were the only ones who had mastered it by the end.

'Holidays are for holidaying,' Tracey protested sheepishly, afterwards. 'It's not as if we could practice at home. Anyway, Daph, since when did you turn into Hermione?'

Daphne didn't deign to reply.

* * *

A letter addressed to  _Evanna Potter_  was delivered to the Slytherin table at breakfast on Tuesday morning. Stamped across the top of the envelope were the following words:  _This owl post has been brought to you by the Diagon Alley Owl Post Office (subsidary of Eeylops Owl Emporium)_.

The letter was in Aunt Petunia's handwriting.

> _Dear Evanna,_
> 
> _What were you thinking, going off with Daphne and her cousin - an adult you barely know! - without waiting for me to come out? I was nearly going frantic when I didn't see you come through the barrier or board the train, and you can't imagine how I felt when I couldn't find you near platforms nine or ten. I understand that you may be allowed more lenient boundaries at Hogwarts, especially ones that may put you in danger -_

That was a rather low blow, thought Evanna crossly; what had happened last year at Hallowe'en hadn't  _really_  been her fault - more a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She read on:

> _\- but you are still my niece, and I made a promise when I took you in to raise you as my own child, in part to fulfil my debt to your mother._

_Your debt to my mother?_  thought Evanna, mystified. What was Aunt Petunia talking about?

> _It may seem silly, but please remember that, no matter what you do, your uncle and I will always have your best interests at heart._
> 
> _There was something I didn't get around to talking to you about. Yes, I told you and Dudley that you could pick out late birthday presents for yourselves at Diagon Alley, but I didn't expect you to choose an item as expensive as a racing broom! It may be your own money that you are spending (I can't argue with that), but I want you to show me that you are putting it to good use. One of your best subjects last year was Flying - is there a broomstick-flying club or something that you can join?_
> 
> _Have a good week, study hard, stay well and out of trouble and don't forget to write. We'll be expecting Iris with your and Dudley's letters on Saturday._
> 
> _Love, Aunt Petunia_

Well, there  _was_  'a broomstick-flying club' of sorts at Hogwarts. Maybe it was time to take up Madam Hooch's old advice to join the Slytherin Quidditch team. When she'd imagined herself flying, it had always been at the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts - what was wrong with turning it into more than a solo act?

* * *

The Slytherin second-years' first Defence Against the Dark Arts was on Wednesday afternoon, right after lunch. Evanna and the others arrived on time to find the door closed and locked. Apprehensively, Tracey knocked.

'D'you reckon he's forgotten?' she said, looking slightly disappointed.

No one answered, but in a moment there was no need to, for there was a bang as the door opened and Gilderoy Lockhart emerged from the classroom, his magnificent lilac robes billowing behind him.

'Ah, Lily!' he said, catching sight of Evanna and ignoring the others completely. 'I've been wanting a word - now, before class, if you don't mind ...'

'Er ...' said Evanna.

'Excellent,' said Lockhart, and he steered her away from Tracey and Daphne. 'Just go in and wait,' he told them and the rest of the Slytherin second-years cheerfully. 'We shan't be a moment ... Now, Lily -'

'- Evanna,' muttered Evanna.

'Well, in this situation, it would really be best to go by the name the public already knows you by ... adds familiarity ... but if you insist,' Lockhart added hastily, upon seeing Evanna's face. 'Where were we? Ah, yes ... I must commend you on that stunt you pulled in Flourish and Blotts,' he continued, oblivious to her sputtering. 'Quite ingenious business ... by leaving early, you made sure all eyes were on you. And I haven't sold so many books on a single day since I won  _Witch Weekly_ 's Most-Charming-Smile Award for the fifth time. Very clever, very Slytherin ... though you would have done well in Ravenclaw - my house, of course. Now, I believe it is time for your first class with me!'

He strode through the door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, cloak billowing behind him. Evanna scuttled in after and slipped into a seat near Tracey and Daphne, hoping her face wasn't as red as it felt.

The room was unrecognisable compared to the ordinary drabness that had been Quirrell's classroom last year. Life-sized portraits and photographs covered the walls, all of Lockhart in various disguises. Every single one of them was smiling supericiliously, white teeth flashing brilliantly. The real Lockhart flourished his wand at the blackboard, but only succeeded in making the chalk fall onto the floor and break in two. Unfazed, he simply pointed up at the largest picture, which was right behind him.

'Gilderoy Lockhart,' he said loudly, and the chattering class fell silent. 'Defeater of the Bandon Banshee, among many,  _many_  other Dark and dangerous creatures ... but we'll get to that in a moment. Your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.' He paused to admire himself on the cover of Millicent's copy of  _Gadding with Ghouls_ , then resumed dramatically. 'Me.'

The class stared at him blankly. Evanna, Tracey and Daphne had heard of the Gryffindor second-years' disasterous first Defence class - no doubt the others had heard something of their teacher's apparent ineptitude.

Lockhart, however, remained unfazed.

'So!' he said brightly. 'Let's kick off the term by seeing how well you've read your course books! Miss Davis - yes, that's right,' he added, as Tracey gave a small start and looked, of all things, flattered and a little pleased, 'if you would pass these around the room, one to everybody ... I'm giving you half an hour to fill it in, starting -  _now_!'

Evanna took the parchment Tracey handed to her and stared at the heading, hardly able to believe her eyes. She glanced sideways at Daphne, and was relieved to see that she had the same reaction.  _Someone_ , at least, was sane.

'I ... what?' Daphne sputtered, leaning closer to whisper. 'I get it - he's famous and wrote heaps of books, but what does his favourite colour have to do with Defence Against the Dark Arts?'

Evanna shrugged. 'To see if we read his books, like he said?'

'Well, if  _you're_  going to give him the benefit of the doubt ...'

'Quiet over there, Lily, Miss Greengrass,' called Lockhart breezily, and they were forced to subside into silence - it was, after all, a test, all fifty-four questions of it, right down to 'Gilderoy Lockhart's ideal birthday gift'. Evanna began to scrape her brain for answers, being all the time conscious of the uncharacteristic speed with which Tracey's quill flew across her parchment.

To their disappointment, there was no cage of Cornish pixies ready to wreak havoc - Lockhart seemed to have learnt something from his own lesson - and instead, he read passages from his books out loud to them during the rest of the class. Once he even called Evanna up to act the part of the Bandon Banshee, who had apparently been defeated single-handedly by Lockhart, armed with only two saucepan lids, a cat and a dustbin. By the time the bell rang, she was more than ready to leave, and gathered up her books as quickly as possible.

'I just hoped we'd get someone better after Quirrell, you know?' she said, disappointed, as they headed off to Herbology. 'And then we get him ...'

'Cheer up, he's not  _that_  bad,' said Tracey consolingly.

Both Evanna and Daphne stared at her.

* * *

'Look at this, Cat,' said Tracey, pointing at a large sign on the noticeboard later that afternoon. 'Snape's booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin tryouts on Saturday morning. I'll do it if you will. What do you say?'

'Do what?'

'Try for a position, of course. Draco's been going on about it all week, but I bet you could beat him to the Snitch any day.'

Evanna shrugged. Playing Quidditch with the Weasleys in the paddock near The Burrow over the summer had changed her opinion of the game somewhat, but she still remained mostly apathetic towards it, far from Tracey's wholehearted love and Daphne's unambiguous dislike.

'The Weasley twins got on the Gryffindor team in their second year,' continued Tracey. 'At any rate, it'll be fun even if we don't get in.'

'If you want to do it so much, why don't you do it yourself?' said Evanna, even as she felt her resolve weakening. After all, Aunt Petunia  _had_  said so ...

'Because it won't be any fun without you, of course. You've got a great broom; what's the point in just  _flying_  it?'

'Oh, I dunno, I honestly thought it was for sweeping the floor when I bought it.'

'I'll sweep the floor with you both if you don't make up your minds,' said Daphne, from behind them.

Tracey looked at Evanna hopefully.

Evanna sighed.

'OK, fine,' she said, not as reluctant as she tried to sound. 'My aunt kind of wants me to, anyway. Wake me up when it's time, would you?'

* * *

'I do wish we didn't have Astronomy on Fridays,' Tracey muttered, as the Slytherins second-years made their way down to the dungeon after a midnight lesson on the Astronomy Tower with Professor Sinistra. 'Completely takes the fun out of the weekend.' The Hufflepuffs, a short distance behind, were also going to their common room, which was apparently 'somewhere near the kitchens', but no one save for the Hufflepuffs knew exactly where.

Evanna said nothing. She was thinking of Quidditch tryouts the next morning, and what position she'd want to play in, if she got the chance. Chaser was all well and good, but teamwork wasn't  _really_  her thing, and, anyway, the Seeker position was open ...

And then she was jolted out of her thoughts as she heard a chilling voice, full of cruelty and venom, that seemed to whisper in her ear:

_'Come ... come to me ... let me rip you ...'_

Evanna froze in her tracks, heart hammering. Pansy crashed into her.

'Ouch! What'd you stop like that for?'

_'Let me tear you ...'_

'Shh!' Evanna said loudly.

'Don't you tell me to shush! You'd no business just braking right in front of me - I could have fallen backwards and smashed my head open -'

'It's a voice! Hang on, just wait -'

_'Let me kill you ...'_

'There! Didn't you hear that?' She turned appealingly to Tracey and Daphne, but they only looked bewildered.

'You're just making excuses,' said Pansy witheringly. 'Anyway, it was probably an echo. It's draughty down here.'

By this time, the Hufflepuffs had caught up with the Slytherins and were clustered just behind, looking over shoulders curiously, peering at Evanna and whispering to each other.

Are you all right?' asked Susan Bones. The rest of the Hufflepuffs looked uneasy.

'Yeah ... I think ...'

'Let's get back,' murmured Tracey in her ear. 'Tell us about it then ...'

Dazedly, Evanna let Tracey and Daphne guide her back to the blank space of wall where the entrance to the Slytherin common room lay hidden. She was thinking. While the voice had been awful and very disconcerting, her scar hadn't hurt at all. So ... was there danger at Hogwarts again this year, or not? It seemed silly to treat her scar as an alarm that would go off whenever she was in danger from Voldemort, and yet that was exactly how it behaved. But for now, she'd just wait and see.

Back in their dormitory, Pansy and Millicent got into bed quickly, but Daphne and Tracey hovered near Evanna's four-poster.

'Did your scar hurt?' Daphne asked.

Evanna shook her head. Part of her wanted to dismiss it all on account of her being tired and on edge after the incident in Flourish and Blotts, but she knew she had to gather information. 'Are you sure either of you didn't hear anything at all?'

Tracey and Daphne exchanged glances.

'What was it, exactly?' asked Tracey.

'A voice, but a really awful one, cold and creepy. It kept saying 'come', and something about ripping and tearing and killing ...'

'None of us could hear anything,' said Daphne. 'And you saw how the Hufflepuffs reacted.'

'You don't think I'm off my rocker, do you?' said Evanna desperately, trying to ignore the rising panicky feeling in her stomach.

'N-no, but ...' said Tracey.

'... but you shouldn't tell anyone else if you can help it,' continued Daphne darkly. 'Hearing voices no one else can isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world.'


	7. Comet and Nimbus

'You ready?' Tracey asked, shouldering her Comet Two Sixty.

'As I'll ever be,' Evanna said, copying Tracey's pose with her own Nimbus Two Thousand, though the effect was not so grand. Tracey was half a head taller, making Evanna look like a first-year next to her.

'Oh, get over yourselves,' came Daphne's voice, collected as always. She stuck a dark tousled head out from behind the green curtains of her four-poster. 'There's still breakfast to go, and you're neither of you dressed.'

'Yes, but it's  _Quidditch_ , Daph!' Tracey could not conceal her excitement. Daphne only yawned.

'Save it for the pitch, would you?'

Fifteen minutes later, the three of them trooped down to the Great Hall in high spirits – it was the first weekend of the term, after all. There were things to eat and places to wander; Hermione waved from the Gryffindor table and Draco Malfoy, far from bragging about his chances on the Quidditch pitch that morning, was clutching his goblet of pumpkin juice and holding his stomach, looking very green. Pansy Parkinson was rubbing his back and whispering in his ear. Evanna pointed Draco's predicament out to Tracey, who winced – in sympathy or distaste, Evanna could not tell.

'Looks too ill to try out today, doesn't he?' murmured Fred Weasley in her ear.

She spun around to see the Weasley twins on either side of her. One look at their faces told her the truth.

'I suppose you had something to do with it?' she said suspiciously.

Tracey looked shocked. 'Doesn't that count as tampering?'

'Well, not  _technically_ ,' said George. 'Unsporting, maybe ...'

'But since he's not on the team yet and he's been a bragging git all week, I think we're justified,' said Fred.

'Just don't tell him,' said George, nodding over at Draco.

'No fear!' said Tracey, with feeling.

'So, no excuses not to try out, Evanna,' said Fred.

'Are they joking?' spluttered Evanna, once Fred and George, looking pleased with themselves, had returned to their table. 'This is ridiculous! First Madam Hooch, then you, then Aunt Petunia, and now  _them_  … Anyone would think I'm conspiring against the laws of the universe and need to be told to toe the line.'

'Well, as I said, this is Quidditch we're talking about …'

Daphne snorted, her eyes firmly fixed on her sausages. Evanna felt a warm glow in the pit of her stomach; it did not matter, after all, whether or not either of them got a place on the Quidditch team; the important thing was that they were having fun, that they were  _friends_. Two years ago she could not have boasted of such a luxury.

Tracey took a sip of pumpkin juice, twisted her head to look at Daphne's watch and almost spit out her drink.

'You won't be late,' said Daphne absently.

'But we won't be early, either! Cat, we'd better get a move on …'

Evanna hesitated, drumming her knuckles on the table.

'Daph, d'you want to watch?'

'I'll meet you there.' Daphne waved a piece of toast at them. 'Have fun, good luck, and all that jazz.'

'Cat, come  _on_ , we're going to be late!'

Ten minutes later, the two of them emerged onto the Quidditch pitch, breathless, but with Comet and Nimbus in hand. Contrary to Tracey's worries, they were not late; a number of Slytherins with broomsticks were milling around, and Daphne and Hermione appeared in the stands soon after (Hermione had brought a book with her), but the practice did not begin until Marcus Flint, an enormous seventh-year who clearly hadn't been picked for captain on account of his looks, blew a whistle sharply to get everybody's attention.

'All right, you lot,' he bellowed. 'I want some decent brooms from you. Nothing lower than a Comet One Eighty, Cleansweep Six or Nimbus Seventeen Hundred. If you've got something lower, like those ancient Cleansweep Fives those Weasleys drag around, then you're out of the running. Clear off.'

About five people walked off towards the stands, but no one grumbled. It was only too clear Flint knew what he was doing.

'The rest of you, get on your brooms and do five laps around the pitch, then we'll get to the other stuff. Go on, move it!'

There was a mass disorganisation as everybody scrambled to get on their brooms and kick off the ground. Evanna and Tracey exchanged excited smiles and followed suit. It was glorious to be back on a broom again – Evanna hadn't realised how much she'd missed regular Flying lessons, even after countless matches of three-a-side Quidditch at The Burrow. She resisted the urge to do a few loop-the-loops out of sheer exhilaration and instead sped faster and faster until she was near the front of the pack, the wind whipping her hair into her eyes every time she made a turn.

After that initial exercise, Flint divided the hopefuls by position (Chasers, Beaters, Keepers and Seekers) and got down to business. Everything revolved around three – three tries to get the Quaffle past the Keeper, three goes at hitting Bludgers towards other players, three attempts at blocking shots from Chasers, three snatches for the Snitch.

Seeker did not seem to be a popular position in Slytherin – other than themselves, there was only a sulky fourth-year boy who barely spoke a word and was often slow in his turns. Evanna and Tracey shared looks – maybe there was a chance after all.

Their first trial was a three-way search for the Snitch – to gauge how they played against others, according to Flint. The Seeker tryouts were the last to commence; in addition to the original hopefuls and the previous year's team, a number of Slytherin students had made their way down from the Great Hall after breakfast and were sitting in the stands, meaning that close to fifty people were watching as Evanna, Tracey and the fourth-year boy kicked off the ground and began their relentless search.

The sun was rising in the sky; Evanna felt its warmth on her neck. It was easy to feel drowsy, circling slowly in the midmorning air, but she forced herself to concentrate. Several times earlier, Tracey had caught her eye and winked, but neither of them faltered.

And then Evanna spotted it, fluttering gently near the middle of the pitch. All the 'Quidditch is stupid' opinions that she had held in her first year disappeared once and for all as she sped onwards the elusive speck of gold – her hair streaking behind her, the wind whistling in her ears.

She was too late. Tracey was already far ahead, coming from the other side, the fourth-year boy fast on her heels. With a burst of energy, Evanna shot closer, reaching, reaching …

Inches from the Snitch, Tracey looked up suddenly, her wide blue eyes meeting Evanna's green ones – and fumbled. The instant her hand slipped, something seemed to awaken inside her, and she made a second, more accurate grab. Next moment, the prize glittered from between her fingers. Back again was the old confidence – there had only been a second of stark vulnerability, but Evanna had seen it.

Shaken and bewildered, she did not perform as well as she could have in the second round – again, Tracey got a head start, and it was either luck or malice that caused the fourth-year boy to fly directly in Tracey's line of vision, forcing her to lose track of what she was searching for. But within five minutes, the Snitch was again secured in Tracey's grasp, and Evanna, somewhat regretfully (for she was getting a little fond of Quidditch), resigned herself to defeat. And then …

'Potter, Davis, you're up,' barked Flint – apparently, he was still sticking to the rule of three, and who was Evanna to argue?

For the third time, she and Tracey mounted their brooms as the fourth-year boy skulked away, looking distinctly relieved. Maybe he hadn't been taking part out of his own volition after all.

But this time was different – they were no longer two second-years in black school robes flying over the Quidditch pitch; this was a Hogwarts Quidditch match, and Evanna was the Slytherin Seeker, but Tracey was the opponent, a rival for the gold, one who must be outflown, lest the match be lost and all hope of winning the Cup disappear with it.

At last Evanna spied what she was looking for – a golden gleam near the base of one of the scoring hoops.  _And Tracey hadn't seen it._  She leant forwards, urging her Nimbus ahead – quick on the uptake, Tracey dived after her.

There was no denying that Tracey was an excellent flyer, with reflexes just that much more honed than Evanna's own, but the added speed of the fairly new Nimbus Two Thousand was exactly the bonus Evanna needed. She pulled ahead of Tracey and kept the lead, triumphantly snatched the Golden Snitch out of mid-air and finally pulled the handle of her broom sharply upwards to avoid colliding with the ground. Tracey landed smoothly next to her, and scattered applause could be heard from the stands.

The whistle blew. The tryouts were over. Tracey had beaten Evanna two to one, if going by score alone – of course, the final decision was up to Flint.

While the stands slowly emptied – the entertaining part of the tryouts over – Flint blew his whistle to get their attention and began announcing the results, one by one. Several players were continuing from last year, smirking with satisfaction and cracking their knuckles when they were chosen.

Tracey was watching Evanna with a strange look in her eyes, but Evanna kept her own on Flint. His gaze flicked from her shiny new Nimbus Two Thousand to Tracey's neatly polished, but obviously well-used Comet Two Sixty, and he appeared to come to a decision.

'Potter, you're Seeker,' he barked, and Evanna was filled with confusion and joy, only to be crushed by guilt at his next words: 'Davis, you're reserve.'

And it was over, just like that.

The final team was with Flint as the Captain, of course, as well as a Chaser, Graham Montague and Adrian Pucey as the other two Chasers, Derrick and Bole as Beaters, Miles Bletchley as Keeper and Evanna as the Seeker. This meant that Evanna was the only girl on the team, but she was barely listening as Flint outlined practice schedules (shooting dirty looks at Hermione, still in the stands, all the while). All her joy at obtaining a place on the Quidditch team had evaporated. It had been Tracey, after all, who had invited Evanna, practically  _begged_  her to come, only to be overlooked in favour of the faster broom.

Daphne and Hermione met Evanna and Tracey on the way off the pitch.

'We heard,' said Hermione breathlessly; despite having no love lost for Quidditch, she was keenly interested in the results of the tryouts for the sake of her friends. 'Well done! Seeker  _and_ reserve sounds fabulous. I'm sure you'll have fun. The captain must think you're good – they don't often have reserves, you know …'

Daphne, however, seemed to spy something unsaid in Tracey's face, for she slung an arm around the blonde girl's shoulders and whispered something in her ear. Tracey looked startled, but nodded hesitantly. Evanna wished she had her Invisibility Cloak with her at that very moment.

After a few hushed mutual confidences, Daphne fell back to talk to Hermione and Evanna took this as an opportunity to prepare herself to say to Tracey what had been on her mind since Flint had announced the results of the tryouts.

'Well,' said Tracey, apparently determined to look anywhere but straight at Evanna. 'Congratulations.'

'Thanks,' muttered Evanna. Her hands were suddenly too full of broomstick. She thrust the Nimbus behind her, but succeeded only in feeling ridiculous. 'Trace, about what happened back there …'

Tracey inclined her head slightly.

'I just … well, what I mean to say is: if you want Seeker, you can have it. I only came along because you asked me to, honestly. You know as well as I do that Flint was being unfair. A Nimbus broom is just a broom ... it's the flying that counts in the end, and you've been flying for years.'

'Drop it, will you?'

'But –'

'I don't care about the sodding brooms. It's the flying that counts, like you said. Anyone with eyes could see who the better player was, and it wasn't me. You saw that fumble, didn't you?'

'Trace ...'

'Cat,' said Tracey firmly, ' _forget it_. I'd rather lose a place on the team than lose a friend.' She gave a small smile, and Evanna let out a long breath. 'And anyway, there's always next year.'

'You're sure?'

Tracey smiled. 'You're a very wonderful person, Cat Potter. You deserve it.'

Evanna didn't know what to say to that.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had recovered sufficiently from his mysterious affliction by the time the four of them arrived in the Great Hall for lunch, for they could hear him loudly complaining from the other end of the Slytherin table about how he'd been short-changed somehow ('Maybe it was the house-elves; my father always says that they're nothing but trouble'). Daphne walked by in a dignified manner without acknowledging his presence; Tracey couldn't resist a smile, but Evanna felt a twinge of guilt. Sure, he wasn't a nice person, and stood to be taken down a peg or two, but it seemed a shame that anybody, even Draco Malfoy, should miss out on a blissful Saturday morning spent on the Quidditch pitch because of two meddlesome Gryffindor fourth-years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference credit: _Another Prisoner, Another Professor_ by Marauder ('a Nimbus broom is just a broom')


End file.
